


Montalivet

by charlotteschaos



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6749410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteschaos/pseuds/charlotteschaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco will find a way to slip past Snape's defenses, even if it takes years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Montalivet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nishizono](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nishizono/gifts).



> Thanks to themostepotente and spiffinghat for the beta. Written for IJ's Partisan Green exchange for nishizono.

For a moment, Draco just lost himself in the kneading of their lips, soft wet tongues and the slick hair in his fingers. If he'd given himself even a moment to consider what it was he was doing, if he'd even thought this far ahead, he wouldn't have expected it. Yet, here he was, and here Snape was, and the older man's hands were wrapped around his waist, melting into him. Draco moaned into the kiss, getting greedy for more, so hungry for the affection, the acceptance that he didn't notice that Snape's posture had straightened until he was being pushed back to arm's length.

Looking at him in shock, Draco whinged, staring at Snape's sallow face, the bewildered expression that was rapidly shutting down, shutting him back out. Tears sprang to Draco's eyes.

"You don't know what you're doing. You are a scared boy." Snape didn't even have the simple grace to look away, but kept Draco's gaze with a piercing glare.

Draco knew that trick, knew what Snape was doing, knew that he was trying to skim the surface of his mind for the truth behind it. He shut Snape out, keeping his eyes locked.

"I am not scared," he said, his voice cracking to betray that he was both scared and a young man.

"There is nothing you could've done for Burbage," said Snape, tilting his head up to clear the curtain of black hair from his face.

Shuddering, Draco recalled the momentary surprise on her face, forever locked in death's grip now. It had happened right in front of him, just moments ago. He shivered again at the memory and wrapped his arms around himself. "I don't care about that Muggle-lover."

Snape looked sympathetic, but again his expression hardened. "You'll have to toughen up. You have to be stronger than this."

"But if he's killing Professors..." said Draco, feeling his heart pounding far too hard in his chest. He felt like it might burst as he spoke the truth of his fears, knowing that Snape would probably laugh at him.

To his great surprise, that did not happen. In a surprisingly tender move roughly executed, Snape grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him close, wrapping his arms tightly around him. Draco leaned in against him, burying his head in his chest. He refused to cry, refused to let everything out. Snape saw him as a boy, not a man, and sobbing like a girl wouldn't help his image. Still, he was terrified for him, terrified that he was going back to the school and the pitfalls of dealing with the other Professors who knew he'd murdered Dumbledore.

Murdered Dumbledore for Draco. His heart expanded, the feeling of exceptional warmth and gratitude engulfing him as he tightened his hands in the back of Snape's tunic.

"I want to go back to Hogwarts with you. You need someone who can watch your back," said Draco against his chest.

"Oh, Draco," said Snape. His voice was muffled and thick and he shook his head. "The Carrows siblings will be attending to me."

"They're fools; you've said so," said Draco. He tightened his arms around Snape, clinging, he knew, but he couldn't bear the thought of Snape leaving and never coming back again. He had a sudden vision of Snape, dark eyes cloudy, expression slack, skin waxy and bloodless and he had to force down a sob. Snape would think he was being a baby, and Draco wasn't a baby.

Snape pushed Draco away again, holding him by the shoulders. He glared deep into his eyes. "You've seen the way the men look at your mother. You must stay here for her. You must protect her. She needs you and she needs you to be strong for her."

Draco blushed and looked down, realizing he had forgotten his mum in the shuffle. Not that she was any more defenseless than Snape was, but she was his blood and he loved her dearly. He loved his father, too, but part of him wondered if his father wouldn't sell out his mum to save his own skin if it came to it. He hated himself for that thought; his father had never done anything to earn it, and yet it stuck there in his mind.

"That is a man's decision, Draco. To stay here with your family, to stay where you are needed. You remember what I told you. Do not cross him, keep your head down. Do not try to impress the Dark Lord, he won't be impressed. The less his eyes are on you, the better it is for you. Do nothing to distinguish yourself and you will keep out of trouble."

Nodding, Draco swallowed hard. He'd argued with Snape before about glory and setting his family back into the Dark Lord's good graces, but he realized that it was impossible until someone cocked up worse. Dumbledore was dead and by Snape's grace, they were all still alive. Draco wasn't going to test it.

"All right," he said, shoulders slumping in defeat.

Snape stepped in and kissed Draco's forehead, surprising him with the sudden affection. "You've grown up so much. It makes me proud."

Draco looked up, but in a flash, Snape had turned to leave his room. Draco watched the way the light outlined Snape's lanky frame in his doorway. Snape paused and looked back at him, searching Draco up and down as if memorizing him or saying goodbye, and then he turned and walked back, each step light as if it were a secret.

Holding up his hand, he showed Draco a small silver filigree ring, ornate and dainty. Somehow, Draco had never noticed it before, but now that he could see it, he couldn't take his eyes off of it. It looked like a tiny tiara made of snakes. Snape pulled it over his finger, having to twist it over his thick knuckle and then slipped it easily onto Draco's pinkie. Draco moved it up to his middle finger, finding the ring big enough to fit there comfortably on his spindly hand.

"It belonged to my mother," said Snape. He stared at it on Draco's hand for a long, uncomfortable moment. Draco thought for certain Snape was going to snatch it back. "I must trust you to keep it safe. If ever it goes cold, you will know I am done."

Gasping, Draco made to remove the ring as if it were a threat to Snape's life.

"No," said Snape. He closed his cold hands over Draco's for a moment and then pulled something from his pocket, a small phial of an impossibly yellow glowing potion. "Should that happen, provided I have not been...ended with the Killing Curse...you must feed this to me, and I will come back to claim this ring from you."

The knots in Draco's stomach loosened and he felt warm all over, awash in relief. Snape trusted him, wanted him to do this for him, and best yet, he wouldn't die. Not by ordinary means, anyway. It was incredibly reassuring to him and he couldn't help but smile and nod.

"You must not tell anyone of this, Draco." Snape looked wary and serious, but not threatening as he often did when he ordered Draco to do something.

"No one will know. I swear it. I owe you a life debt, don't I?" Draco closed his free hand over Snape's as if he could warm him.

"I do not hold life debts. Those are too costly. Do it because I am your friend." Snape slowly withdrew his hand and looked as if he were going to touch Draco's face, but instead put his hands in his pockets.

"I'll do it because I love you." Draco's voice was small and quiet, but no less sincere.

Snape looked at him in shock and for once, he looked away. "As you say."

He looked up again one last time before wheeling around and leaving Draco's room.

\--

Tears sprang to Draco's eyes, and he fell to his knees in front of Snape's corpse. He was sprawled on the dusty wooden floor of the Shrieking Shack, mouth coated in black dried blood speckled with the odd silver splatter of tangible memories. Sitting next to Snape, Draco slid his finger over the crusted blood on Snape's bottom lip, wincing at the toughness of scabs. He broke off a chunk that was holding a fair bit of silver and slipped it into his pocket.

The ring on his finger was ice cold; it was how he knew that Snape was dead. Though seeing Snape's throat torn open was upsetting, Draco was comforted that it meant he hadn't died via the Killing Curse and that the carefully prepared potion would revive him. The problem became healing Snape and the pain he'd have to endure. It would feel like dying again, but Draco couldn't heal dead flesh.

What he did know was the singing spell that Snape had used to cauterise and then sew Draco's chest back together when Potter had split him open in the boys' loo. Draco had made Snape teach it to him, thinking that since they were going to war, it would be a valuable thing to know. Now he was glad he had bothered.

Holding his wand at the ready in his right hand, he pushed the cork from the phial with his thumb, hoping that Snape's potion would work as well as he hoped it would. Part of him was sad that he would no longer be responsible for Snape's life once he'd used this, but the hope that he'd be able to speak to him again overwhelmed any residual sadness.

The potion went through Snape's body in an amber glow, dribbling down his lips, warming blue-grey skin to a pinker shade. When the potion reached Snape's throat, and Draco could feel radiant heat from his wound, Draco started to sing. He kept his eyes locked on Snape's dead eyes, watching him blink, cold grey eyes moistening, darkening back to their proper colour.

Draco smiled at him when Snape was able to look at him. He wasn't sure if Snape could really _see_ him, but he wanted to be smiling if he could see him, wanted him to think it wasn't as bad as it was. Snape twitched; his body started to shake and his eyes rolled back in his head. Draco sang faster, watching the skin spike like tiny threads and knit back together. Warm blood gushed from his neck, pushing out the last of the bad, the dead blood and venom and silver, purifying him and sliding over Draco's pale hand.

The skin seamed back together, leaving nothing but faint marks where Nagini's fangs had punctured him and lines where his skin had torn. Draco stopped singing and started casting light cleaning spells to try and neaten Snape's clothes. Snape grabbed Draco's wand and rolled his eyes at him as he sat up on one elbow with great effort. His chest was heaving for breath, and when he tried to speak, it came out in a strained wheeze.

"Don't," said Draco, holding a bloodied hand up as he wrangled his wand from Snape, giving it an odd glance and remembering the weird things Potter was saying about master wands and elder...whatever. "You don't have to speak. The Dark Lord is dead."

Snape looked relieved and exhaled slowly. Then he looked up at Draco again with trepidation.

"Regrettably, Potter survived," said Draco.

Much to Draco's surprise (and a little annoyance) Snape smiled genuinely and nodded. He'd never expected to see Snape _happy_ that Potter was drawing breath.

Reaching out, Snape tipped Draco's chin up and he gave him a serious look. At first, Draco thought it might be a rebuke, but then he understood the look better as pride and he took advantage of their faces being so close and leaned in to press his lips to Snape's.

Snape recoiled and shook his head violently, pointing to the empty phial Draco had dropped to the floor. Draco nodded and frowned. Snape pressed his hand on top of Draco's and squeezed it. He managed to croak, "You're a good boy, Draco."

Draco bridled at being called a boy, but an argument now was pointless and cruel, so he simply stood, offering a hand to Snape to help him stand. "Potter believes you to be dead and the Ministry will believe that as well. We have an Unplottable vacation home in France that you may use for as long as you wish. Mum says we owe you at least that much."

Nodding soberly, Snape looked like he wanted to say something, but instead, he folded his arms and eyed Draco.

Not knowing what to do or to say after that, Draco said, "Great, well, there's a Portkey for you at the Manor, so we'll just...head back there and you'll be on your way."

At that, Snape nodded sharply and Draco sighed softly, still stinging from being seen as a boy. He'd just saved Snape's life, he'd risked even the good graces of Potter and the Ministry to come out there to fetch him, but to Snape, he was _still_ just a boy.

Bitterly, Draco stepped in closer to Snape, wrapped his arms around him and concentrated on getting them both to the Manor.

\--

"I'm not sure it's entirely proper for one who is running for a governorship to be sunbathing on a beach in the nude," said Snape, his voice curt as it ever had been.

Draco knew he looked smashing. He was lathered up in coconut oil, porcelain skin lightly golden by the sun's rays. His prick was pink and shiny and he tilted his hips up, sucking in his breath so that he would look even more waspish than he already did.

Whatever Snape may have thought about him as being a boy, a young lad not well-formed in years or in shape, there was no denying his broad shoulders, his willowy height, or his impressive political resume that was leading him down the path his father had previously trod.

"I _know_ it's not at all proper to be in Montalivet in a burka," said Draco. He lifted his hips up slightly from the lounger. He could hear that Snape was behind him, likely just out of the large, Muggle-repellent Wizard tent they'd erected for the occasion.

"It is _not_ a burka, it is a proper Wizard's robe--something you would do well to look into wearing. If the press got wind of..."

The sun's rays buffeted Draco's skin like the feel of a warm chenille towel. The breeze was just chilly enough to make his nipples stand on end. He knew he looked good. If Snape wouldn't have him now, then he would truly have no hope.

Being a future Minister of Magic wasn't his goal. He'd just wanted to show Snape that he wasn't a child-- that he'd grown up. The lecture continued and Draco looked out onto the waves, sliding his hands over his thighs.

"PUT SOME BLOODY CLOTHES ON, DRACO!" Birds flew and girls walking along the beach stared blandly in their direction. Somehow Snape's magic was strong enough to make the repelling charms tremble. Fortunately, he didn't puncture the magic.

Let down, Draco sat up on the lounger and swung his legs out to one side, placing his feet in the sand. "God you're cranky. You need to get laid," he said in exasperation.

"What?" Snape snapped.

Draco had never seen Snape quite so agitated, and he'd been around Snape when he'd been chatting with Potter, so that was saying something. Still, he couldn't back down now. He'd said it, it was out there, and if Snape was ever going to see him as an adult, he couldn't charm his way out of it.

Standing, Draco took the few steps closer to Snape, finding that now he was eye-to-eye with the man, if not slightly taller. He was naked, oiled and glowing pale tinged with gold. With his nose practically against Snape's, he spoke. "I said. You. Need. To. Get. Laid."

Like a snake striking, Snape's hand closed around Draco's wrist. He felt like a disobedient child as he was dragged into the tent, feet not as sure as he'd liked. Then all at once he was slammed against a surprisingly solid tent wall, Snape's long body taut against him, mouth all teeth and tongue demanding entrance.

Draco's heart thundered in his chest as he felt the hardness pressing against his. Reaching for it, he cupped his fingers around Snape's prick through the thick fabric of his tunic and trousers with his other hand sliding around the back of Snape's neck. He wasn't getting away if Draco could help it.

Snape's groan was loud and sounded surprised. Draco tightened his hand on the back of his neck, determined not to let him pull away. Scrambling for his fastenings, Draco tore away tunic buttons and yanked impatiently on Snape's belt.

He felt Snape stiffen, his tongue going lax as if he wanted to say something. Draco tilted his head to the side, sucking desperately on Snape's tongue, pulling and sucking as his deft fingers plucked through the fastenings so that he could wrap his hand completely around Snape's prick.

Again, Snape moaned in surprise, but this time his hands slid down to Draco's bare, slick arse; his fingers sunk into his skin with bruising force, pushing nails into the tender skin. This time, Draco groaned. His head fell back against the wall in a dizzying thud as Snape hoisted him up against the rough fabric wall.

All Draco could do was wrap his legs around Snape's waist as he wrapped his arms around his neck. He opened his mouth to speak, to warn Snape that he'd never done this before, but Snape was too quick. Snape's prick lined up with his opening after sliding against his oiled cheeks a couple of times and with a decisive thrust, Snape breached him.

It was only the tip, but Draco felt raw, split open. He shrieked, his fingers gathering in the back of Snape's torn tunic, body tense and coated in sweat. He tried to relax to let him in further, but Snape's hips snapped back and pushed in again and Draco sobbed, clinging and shuddering.

His body was wracked with the forceful pain of it, but his psyche was soothed by the grateful fiercely aroused moans in his ear. Tears streamed down Draco's face at the stabbing sensation and he bit Snape's neck to bear the pain. Snape gasped and hissed and drove harder and faster into him, nails scraping Draco's cheeks as he tried to keep his grip on him.

Draco shuddered, bearing it, pushing back as his body numbed to it, slowly relaxing into the rhythm. He was sore, like he was being ripped apart with each thrust. Yet incredibly, it was a pain that he was growing to love. The sensations mixed in his head, brutal and arousing, vicious claiming grunts and sighs of surrender. Still clinging, Draco pulled back to lean against the wall to look at Snape's face. The lines had smoothed out, his body given over to the harsh need.

In spite of the pain, it felt right. It felt perfect and he reached down to stroke himself. His erection had waned with the pain, but was returning as the realization of what he was doing and with whom, hit him. He kissed him again, desperate and sweaty and Snape kissed back, moaning Draco's name into his mouth.

It only took a few more thrusts after that before Snape huffed and grunted his last, holding Draco's hips on his pulsing prick. He was deep, so far into him that Draco could barely breathe. Then Snape pushed Draco up and slipped out of him and bundled him into his arms and carried him to the soft pillows in the back of the tent.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, voice tender and face concerned.

Draco shook his head even though the absence of Snape inside of him was painful as his body tried to adjust to what felt like a gaping hole left in him. Snape stroked his cheek with the back of his hand, spreading Draco out. He had the grace to blush. "That was not...I should not have...."

Reaching for his face, Draco cupped it and gazed into his eyes and said, "You should have. I wanted you to. I've always wanted you to."

His sentence broke as Snape kissed him again. His kisses were like an assault, almost cruel and his hand gripped Draco's prick roughly, pulling it. Draco arched his back at the force, toes curling in as much arousal as pain.

He whimpered and opened his eyes and Snape's touch softened and slowed. Draco rocked against him then, breathing through his mouth, watching Snape's face.

"I haven't...I'm sorry if I'm...." Snape started.

Draco kissed him, wanting to leave it unsaid. "I haven't either," he whispered against Snape's lips. "Not with a man. I just...you...."

Snape nodded and looked down. Draco also looked at Snape's hand around the greased, red-purple prick in his hand, the way that it bobbed in and out of view. The sight coupled with who was doing it was too much for him and he convulsed as the orgasm hit him. His body tightened, feeling the gathering of nerves like a fist that suddenly exploded through his prick, wetting Snape's hand and his belly in long, wet, warm ropes of come.

Remaining rigid until the last of it was expelled, Draco flopped against the pillows and pulled Snape down on top of him, kissing him again. He wanted to tell him that he loved him, that he always had, but he was sure that Snape realized that by now.

He smoothed his fingers through his long, ragged black hair, listening to the crashing of the waves outside and the occasional blurb of conversation as Muggles passed the tent unaware of their presence. In that moment, the world was perfect. In that moment, all of his longing had been crystallized and distilled into this. Draco didn't want to move, couldn't move. It seemed that Snape felt the same; as he didn't stir or speak, even as the light faded from the sky, casting them into the eerie darkness of night surrounded by Muggle lights.

"We should go home," said Snape finally. He pushed off of Draco, his tunics a wreck of come, sand and sweat, torn at the front. He neatened it with a quick spell, leaving Draco to see to himself.

"We?" asked Draco as he sat up, feeling like he was going to break in two with how raw his insides were.

Snape straightened up and then smirked slyly. "Yes. We. I think that you should come home with me. I should, at the very least, tend to you. And you should probably be around in case I...how did you put it? 'Need to get laid' again."

Draco brightened and nodded, pulling his clothes on carefully. He wasn't sure how soon he'd be ready to repeat that, but he liked the idea that it would happen again. "I suppose. If that's what you want," he said, trying to play it off, but he was beaming too much for Snape to take it in any other way than that he was delighted.

"It is what I want, Mr Malfoy, but you are an adult, and the choice is yours," said Snape.

Straightening, Draco looked at Snape for a long time, finding the new look of respect in his eyes. Finally, Draco nodded and said, "I am an adult, and I choose to go home with you."

Snape actually smiled then and nodded. "Very good." He wrapped an arm around Draco, and the tent and beach fell away and the old familiar furnishings of the Malfoy summer home sprang up in its place and Draco knew that he was really home.


End file.
